Houston
The only chores I’d done in the past to get ready for a new roommate were to straighten a few things and to make sure the room was free of dust. Sometimes, I’d run the vacuum over the carpet one last time, but that was about it. I’d never gone through the kitchen to make sure the cabinets were clean or wiped out the fridge. But just a few hours after Reece had said he’d take the room, that’s what I found myself doing.
Compulsively.
My mother had always joked that she could tell how much stress I was under, or how guilty I was feeling, by how clean my room was. In high school, she’d nearly had a heart attack when the night before I’d planned on coming out to her, she’d found me scrubbing the bathroom floor with a toothbrush.
She’d thought I was either dying or had gotten someone knocked up, which she’d always said she would kill me for, so either way, I’d been a dead guy in her mind. When I’d told her I was gay, she’d been so relieved, she hadn’t really cared.
When I started organizing the pantry for the second time, I forced myself to walk away. Once I started alphabetizing canned goods, it was time to find something else to do. The place was fine. He’d already said he wanted to move in and had even paid the first month’s rent.
I wasn’t exactly sure what was so stressful, that I’d wanted my new roommate or that I hadn’t scared him off even by being insanely honest. I should have scared him off. Any halfway normal person would have bolted, right? One young guy, who I’d thought was a barista by the way he was dressed, had taken one look at me and simply turned around. Walking away, he’d shaken his head and mumbled something about a wrong number.
I hadn’t even bothered to chase him down. If just by opening the door I’d freaked him out enough that he hadn’t realized we weren’t on the phone, I wasn’t going to bother with the whole speech. He wouldn’t have even lasted through the first load of laundry.
Or the first time I invited a guy back to the condo and bent him over for a sound spanking before we fucked. Nope, he’d have run at the first cry or strangled moan, no matter how consensual it was. I was hoping Reece would have more staying power.
And that sounded dirty.
I wasn’t going to think of him that way. Just because he had those big brown eyes that made me want to see him naked and kneeling at my feet didn’t mean I was going to let my brain go down that path. I had more self-control than that.
Usually.
Most of the time.
Nearly always.
I wasn’t going to let anything get out of hand, not my behavior around him nor my fantasies. It didn’t matter how perfectly he fit my ideal man. That was just looks. Once he moved in, it would be clear that he wasn’t submissive and wasn’t an option. He’d invite a woman over or would say something about how odd kinks were if one came up in a sitcom or documentary. There was no way he’d continue to be that perfect.
Forcing myself to walk out of the kitchen, I headed back to my bedroom. I was going to do something relaxing, even if it killed me. Stripping out of my clothes, I carefully put everything away and went to the dresser. A messy bedroom made it almost impossible for me to sleep, so everything was neat and the surfaces mainly clutter-free.
Sorting through the drawers, I picked out a pair of blue satin briefs that were sexy and comfortable and grabbed a pair of red silk pajama pants. Once Reece moved in, I’d add a shirt, but that was my only concession to living with someone. It wasn’t like I was walking around in a nightgown. They were drafty and just hadn’t felt right. But soft, silky pants were perfect for hanging around the house and relaxing.
And that was what I was going to do.
The combination of satin and silk made it almost impossible for my cock to behave. And the way the pants clung to my body outlined my half-hard cock perfectly. So maybe I’d have to be a little more careful with Reece than I had been with some of my other roommates.
He was hot enough that it might cause a problem.
Heading back toward the kitchen, I only stayed long enough to nuke some leftover Chinese food and then went out to the couch. Grabbing the remote, I flicked through the channels until I found a history documentary that looked interesting. Maybe it wasn’t the most exciting night, but I wasn’t working or cleaning the house, so it counted.
When my phone started ringing halfway through the show, I almost ignored it. But thinking it could’ve been work, I got up and followed the noise. I wasn’t much for stalking my cell in my downtime since I was on it most of the day, and I wasn’t surprised to hear it coming from the office.
It was almost going to voicemail by the time I grabbed it, so I didn’t even have time to figure out who was calling before I swiped my finger across the screen. “Hello?”
“Um, hi, it’s Reece. I just wanted to talk to you about Friday.” Reece’s smooth voice came over the phone, and every nerve sat up and took notice.
“Did you have a chance to call the shipping company?” I wasn’t sure if he could really get things organized that quickly, so when he made an affirmative noise, I was surprised.
Reece immediately answered, “Yes, they’ve been easy to work with so far, and it should be there around ten Friday morning.”
“Will someone need to sign for it, or—”
I must have been gruffer than I’d realized because he broke in, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll be there to meet them, so there isn’t anything you’ll need to do.”
Wanting to make sure he’d planned everything out, I continued my questions. “Do you have anyone to help you unload?”
“Yes.” I could almost see his confident nod, and the perverse part of me who wanted him to be a sub mentally added a “Sir” to his answer. “I have a few people from work who’ve said they’re going to help me. My boss even made sure it was easy for everyone to have the time off. They’ve been great.”
“That’s good.” And surprising. Quite a few of my previous roommates had ended up doing most of the work themselves, because they hadn’t wanted me to help, but couldn’t find anyone else. Looking back, that should have been a sign. If they were too crazy to find friends, then I probably shouldn’t have let them move in.
“They’re, um, all a bit loud, but they mean well, and I’ll try to keep out of your way. I don’t want to interrupt your schedule or work. I understand it’s your office as well as your home, so I’ll do my best to respect that.” I was reading too much into his statement, but something about the way he’d said it made me picture a sweet sub on his knees waiting for his master.
Eager to please.
Wanting to show Master how good he could be.
Desperate for the spanking he knew would be coming.
And I needed to get my imagination under control, or every time I saw him I was going to end up with a hard-on. Clearing my voice, trying not to sound like I was erect and ready to bend him over, I tried to put him at ease. “Don’t worry about it. I realize that moving is difficult, and I’ve made sure I don’t have anything pressing that day. You have enough to worry about without me telling you to behave because I’m on the phone.”
And that hadn’t come out right.
Roommates weren’t told to behave, subs were.
Fuck.
He gave a quick cough but didn’t say anything about my slip. Had he not realized what I’d said? Was he just chalking it up to me being odd? Finally, Reece spoke again. “Thanks. I appreciate how easy you're making this. Finding someone who you get along with and can relate to is difficult. I think we’re going to end up having a lot in common.”
To my ears, the words sounded too careful to be just a random comment. But I knew I was just reading between the lines again. With the kind of mood I was in, I could make anything sound dirty. “I think so too.”
Probably not, but I wasn’t going to say it and end up sounding like an ass.
“Well, I’ll be over there Friday morning. Um, was there anything else I needed to do or sign?” He sounded hesitant, and I wanted to say just a little bit eager.
“I think we got everything done yesterday. Just let me know if you need help with the move or if you’re not going to be able to meet the delivery guys for some reason.” And I had to get off the phone before I said anything else ridiculous.
Telling him to behave…what was I going to do next, call him a naughty boy?
Reece made a low hum of agreement. “Sure, and thanks again. I’ll see you Friday.” He quickly disconnected the call, and I tossed my phone back onto the desk.
“You’re screwed.” He was going to make me crazy.
I gave up on the idea of finishing the documentary and headed for my room. There was only one way I wanted to relax at that moment, and it wasn’t watching TV. Walking in, I pushed the door so it almost caught on the frame and went over to stretch out on the bed.
I didn’t even bother to get naked. I just cupped my aching cock through the pants and gave it a long stroke. It wasn’t going to take long, and I wasn’t in any mood to drag it out. Edging a sub was perfection, but when it was just me getting off, I was more of a straight-to-the-point kind of guy.
The hard length of my dick strained against the panties, and I finally gave in. Shoving down the soft pajama bottoms and panties with one hand, I leaned over to the nightstand and squirted the lotion into my other.
Taking my cock in a tight grip, I closed my eyes and pictured a sub stretched across my bed. Tied down at all four corners, he’d be humping the bed, trying to get enough friction on his cock to orgasm, but it would be no use. The tight cock ring wrapped around his erection would keep him from coming.
Moving my hand faster, I imagined flogging my sub, watching his ass grow pink while he writhed and moaned. I was getting closer and closer to the edge—the fantasy was too perfect. And if I finally orgasmed to the mental picture of a brown-eyed sub begging his master to let him come, I was going to ignore it.
Reaching over for the tissues on the table next to the bed, I cleaned up my chest where streaks of cum had hit. Shoving my clothes the rest of the way off my legs, I got up and headed for the bathroom. I was going to shower and then pretend I hadn’t jerked off to the image of my straight, more than likely very vanilla roommate.
Shaking my head at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I felt ridiculous. “You are so fucked.”